Human nature has masochistic tendencies, inadvertent or not. Everybody is bound to do something painfully stupid. The only hope is to do so in sanctuary. I tend to perform these acts in the kitchen, because I firmly believe that a lot of good things in a cooking vessel will create something greater than the sum of its parts. This time, I discover that there is an exception to the aforementioned rule, chiles.
I have a lot of experience with various fresh green and red chiles, and even habaneros, but not much with dried chiles. I dabble with chile de arbol, but dishes never come out very spicy. So logically, if I were to increase the dosage of these chiles--by say, 'a bunch'--I should finally get achieve some burn to combat Chicago's frigid weather. The result is a dish I am still facing the consequences a day later, what will now be referred to El Diablo.